I carry the dead
hushed voices on my shoulder
heaven cries, we weep
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
Latest Entries »
I grow younger with each
breath that I take,
a reversal of ill-fortune, let’s say.
Cracked the code, a matter of will,
these genes obey if you let them.
I bounce off the ageless,
effortless, like stars
to the edge of time,
a return trip home
to new days.
My state of mind
is to pay no mind
to the state of the being
I’m in.
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
My smile’s upturned
at the top of my head,
I imagine it now
to reside there,
inside and high
at the crown, it’s void
of the need for my face,
any muscle or tension.
In suspended
jubilation,
I simply will
will myself
simple, to be
me, not a care
in this world,
go dumb.
Mine’s a Cheshire grin
that you can’t see,
but inside I glow
with big polished teeth.
My sobs are just
camouflage, first
you see me, and then . . .
you don’t.
A lot of folks cry
on the inside,
not me!
I’m laughing all the way
to the wake,
which
by the way,
is on the way,
to the bank.
Keep your wits
about you man,
’cause a cold morning breaks everyday.
© Carlos Chagall 2013
Found Joyce for a pound
while over Pound I’d rejoice
no matter the cost
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
Won’t you cradle me?
Mother Earth will swallow you . . .
Ancient songs you’d sing
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
I’ve decided I’m not
going to rinse
out my swim trunks
so I can smell Summer
all winter
long
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
It’s brewing . . .
can you feel it?
Small eddies,
whorls in the mind,
grays on gray
subtlety
conjured
from somewhere
to surface
ripples
plink!
droplets
plink!
torture
incessant
finally
ceases
arrives
manifest
as a smile,
a kiss,
a brave hello,
or a wave goodbye
this
is how
impulse
begets
gesture
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
Rather than relive my life
I have decided instead
to rewrite its table
of contents
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
Calliopes lilt up
stride down beautiful horses
sunlit carousels
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
Hmm . . .
where was I?
Before she came
into my life
and totally disrupted
my flow
where was I?
I need to get back
to that point,
that me
when I was so ready
to love someone
exactly like her
hmm . . .
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
Alphabet City 